


The Five Step Tangle

by Band_aid



Series: The Horribly Self-Indulgent Series of Unfortunate Nicomaki Events [3]
Category: Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: F/F, Nico Yazawa is a Weeb, Science Babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5258885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Band_aid/pseuds/Band_aid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico's leaving for the weekend for work-related business, which means it's up to Maki to take care of the kids for the time being. That's easier said than done, but Maki Nishikino is a fully accredited and currently-practicing (if on break) neurosurgeon and piano teacher. How hard can it be to wrangle a few babies?</p><p>Apparently, very.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Five Step Tangle

**Author's Note:**

> HAHA THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THIS LONG ENJOY

At the most ungodly hour imaginable, and with the most reluctance to ever grace her being, Maki rose out of bed, hair wild around her eyes. After lying in bed for who knows how long, waiting for Nico to get up and calm their not-quite-one-year-old (and then gritting her teeth when Tomomi’s sobbing caused _Tooru_ to scream as well), Maki finally realized that the only presence beside her was a tossed blanket and one of Nico’s many nightgowns. _Good_ . There would be no one to stop her for when she felt the desire to murder her own kids. _Really_ , her first day off in god knows how many months and she can’t even get a full night’s rest. She could almost hear the “ _That’s what you get for being a mommy_ ” Nozomi had told her countless times when she called at ten at night for advice on how to change a diaper (three in the morning for the two of them, Maki sheepishly acknowledged after hearing the sleep present in her voice).

She wriggled her feet into her slippers--a cozy anniversary present from her mother--and flipped on the bedside lamp, eyes refusing to open and contract at the bright intruder. Rubbing her eyes and glancing out the door at the light seeping in from the hallway, Maki sat on the edge of her bed, stretching and running a hand through her hair, and flinched when her wedding ring caught on a knot. Maki checked her alarm clock; four forty-nine, it read. Her cold hands ran along the back of her neck, suppressing a whine, and she nearly laid back down in defeat right then and there. Maybe, just maybe, she could get five more minutes in before the crying became too unbearable. Who was she kidding herself, though? If anything, it seemed as though the crying from the room over only amplified with every second she wasted mustering the energy to stand up.

“Mommy?” a small voice called from the hallway. Her oldest, Naoko, hid behind the door to Maki’s bedroom, one hand holding the knob shyly. Maki rubbed her eyes as more light poured into the room, finally pulled herself to her feet, and dragged herself outside in the hallway. Naoko stepped back, and Maki took hold of the door and closed it.

“Did they wake you? I’m sorry.” Maki leaned down, petting Naoko’s hair as she sleepily rubbed her face with the palms of her hand, dropping her blanket for a moment. “Don’t rub. You’ll hurt your eyes.”

Naoko struggled to stop, inhaling deeply, and Maki took both of her hands in hers. Naoko pulled one of them away in order to pick up her blanket. “But, you do it, Mommy.”

Maki sighed. “Mommy’s not a good example. Just don’t do it, okay?” Naoko nodded. “Okay. Go back to bed.” When Naoko opened her mouth to speak, Maki silenced her with a shake of her head. Obediently, she teetered off to her room, clutching her blanket tightly as it trailed behind her and snagged in the hinge. Holding her breath (and temper), Maki kneeled down to help her, ears pounding with every wail. Finally freed, Naoko climbed into bed, leaving Maki to shut her door behind her.

She let her forehead fall against the wall with a thump. The wailing continued, unhindered (perhaps even magnified) by her lack of attention. Maki buried her face into her hands, cursing Nico under her breath. Her hand balled into a fit as she lifted herself up and persisted down the hallway.

“No more,” she weakly croaked as she entered the room. Two cribs sat comfortably in the corner, but the babies occupying them less so. “Please, no more. Just be quiet, _please_. It’s okay.”

Her attempts to pacify the babies went unheard. The room was lit only by the small, pink butterfly night light beside the door. Too dark to see, Maki braced herself and held a hand over her eyes as she flipped the light switch on, revealing two snotty faces dripping with tears and mucus, and Maki was honestly surprised they hadn’t coughed up their lungs with the amount of tears they’d managed to force out. Between intermittent coughs, Maki almost thought they were placated as she neared the edge of the cribs.

Their room could have rivaled a princess’s--or a prince’s, or both. It was filled with toys they didn’t really know how to use, a toy piano only their older sister could use--improperly, anyways. Maki figured that they’d need this stuff _one_ day, so they might as well just get it now, while they were shopping for more baby supplies. Nico had frowned, saying they could just use the leftover diapers and toys from when Naoko was a baby. Maki asserted they needed their _own_ toys, and that no, they would not end up with a garage full of junk they couldn’t bear to part with, she _promised_. Maki was still of the dogmatic opinion that every single toy in their room was needed.

Maki started to regret that decision the slightest bit when she tripped over a train set, thankfully catching herself on the railing of the crib in time before her nose met the floor. The shake of her weight only served to make the two cry harder. She really should’ve seen that coming, but in her stupor state (from lack of sleep, she dryly noted) she hadn’t lifted her foot high enough. She hissed a series of weak “ow”s as she pulled herself to her feet through her arms alone, leaning her weight on Tooru’s crib. He wheezed; Maki sighed and stared flatly. Well, everyone knew who was getting the Mother of the Year Award now.

“You’re going to cry yourself to exhaustion,” she muttered, resting her cheek in her palm. She pinched her nose as he coughed and flailed his arms wildly. Beside his crib, Tomomi was faring no better, her small fingers gripping the crib’s bars. She glanced between the two as she straightened her back and stretched. “What’s wrong? Are you hungry? Lonely? Did you have an accident?”

Despite knowing they were barely a year old, and despite knowing that babies were far from being experts at communication, Maki wanted to duct tape their mouths shut. Like mama like child, she supposed; Naoko didn’t cry nearly this much when she was their age. She didn’t know why she kept trying to carry on a conversation with two agonizingly loud babies, but she knew she had little else to do when her voice and face seemed to finally calm them down. At least, the interval between “crying” and “hyperventilating and coughing” was longer, so that could only be a good thing. Right? As she droned on, she found little else to say, instead opting to make mumbled, soft noises instead of words, which apparently Tooru found entertaining.

Maki didn’t get this Blighted opportunity every day at five in the morning; typically, work required her to be at the hospital _by_ five, forcing her to wake up at three thirty if she wanted to do her hair and makeup nicely, four thirty if she didn’t. For now, she was relieved from her absurd shift due to Nico’s incessant begging--who she meant to thank for getting her a day off. Left alone with the kids, she wasn’t sure whether to thank her or strangle her when she got home.

Probably strangle her, because Maki could’ve sworn Nico said she had to leave at five in the _evening_ , not this morning, she thought absently while wiggling her index finger into Tooru’s stomach, whose crying finally dissolved into giggles. Her other arm disappeared into Tomomi’s crib, idly tangling her fingers in what little black hair she had, allowing her to tug on her fingers, only slightly worried that she would bend her finger in an odd direction and snap it.

Though she absolutely adored her kids to death, Maki didn’t want to stay awake any longer than necessary and cautiously pulled her fingers away, gently swaying the cribs in an attempt to make them sleepy once more. Tooru yawned; perfect. Now if she could _just_ slip away without them noticing, maybe she could catch a few more hours before her screwed-up-beyond-repair internal clock forced her awake. She began to back out of the room, keeping a careful watch on the two of them. When she had no further reason to stay, Maki turned to turn off the light and let them (and herself) sleep in peace.

Just as she thought she was in the clear, she tripped over the exact same fucking train set, only this time there was no crib to catch her. Maki plummeted to the floor, and so did her chances of getting any sleep that night as Tooru and Tomomi started crying again, probably due to the scream that accompanied her fall along with the sound of her head hitting the floorboards.

Maki lifted her head again and clutched the back of it tenderly when she felt it throb. Grunting, she sat on the floor for a minute, regaining her balance, and after checking her fingers for blood, used the crib to steady herself. Upon standing, she stared into the cribs in incredulity.

“I could’ve cracked open my skull, and you’re just upset that you heard a loud noise,” Maki grumpily accused of her twin kids, partially joking and partially not.

“Mommy?” Naoko called from the hallway; the sound of footsteps indicated she was searching her room. Maki let her forehead rest against the rail of the crib for a moment before reaching into each crib and plucking the crying babies from their nest of snot and spit. She shuddered when she noticed their snot stained her torso, but forced herself to endure it as she carried them out, one on each hip.

Naoko’s head popped out from behind her parents’ bedroom door, brightening at the sight of her mother. She ran towards her, clenching her blanket tightly, and wrapped her arms around Maki’s right leg as best she could. This time, Maki prepared herself for the impact and refused to trip over her daughter for the third time in fifteen minutes.

She sighed, exasperated. “Naoko-chan, what are you doing?”

Instead of responding, the three-year-old clung tighter. Maki nudged her gently. “I really need to put your brother and sister down. They’re very heavy.”

Naoko conceded and let go of her leg, but followed her adamantly to the couch in their spacious living room. Maki walked carefully, sure to lift her legs properly despite the nagging, mopey desire to drag them every step of the way. The darkness swallowed them whole as she walked over to the couch, placing both of them down and telling their older sister _not_ to take her eyes off of them for a second before tracing her steps back to turn on the light with her now-free hands. She stumbled against the wall, agony racking her head, and when Naoko asked what was wrong, she shook her head nothing and returned to the couch. As she stared at the three of her children congregating near the couch, Naoko trying (in vain) to calm her younger siblings, Maki knew she would not be getting anymore sleep that night.

She sat down next to them, placing Tomomi on her lap while Naoko held her brother up. Despite their best efforts, the twins continued to cry to the point where Tomomi violently kicked her feet in frustration like the child she was--they really were Nico’s kids in every sense of the word. At least she could count on _one_ of her kids to behave properly.

“Naoko-chan,” Maki said quietly, “can you watch your brother and sister for a bit? I’m just going to go get their bottles.”

Naoko nodded in a rigid, stiff salute and a large nod, like it was the most important job in the world. Maki handed Tomomi off to her by setting her down on the couch next to her; Naoko wrapped her arms around them, giving her mother a thumbs up. Maki gave her a weak thumbs up back and lumbered towards the kitchen.

In the cabinet next to the fridge, she pulled out a fresh supplement bottle. Then, she reached around to open the fridge, finding a small bottle labelled “Tomomi” on the second shelf, near-full from her earlier meal she refused to finish. (Maki was content with simply throwing the bottle out, but Nico refused to waste any of the formula and replaced the nipple before tossing it in the fridge, telling her it would be fine). As she closed the fridge door, Maki stopped, gaze focused on a small slip of paper she hadn’t seen before held up by an A-RISE magnet. She leaned forward, squinting in the low light.

> _Goooood morning Maki-chan~. I had to leave early ‘cause my manager called. Apparently they want me on the set early so we can do some extra autographs and stuff. Sorry I didn’t wake you, but you were kind of loopy when my phone rang._
> 
> _Aaanyway, Nico-nii loves you, nico_ **_♪_ ** _.Tell the kids to be good for Mama! I’ll be back Sunday night, just like we discussed before._
> 
> _Oh, and I forgot to buy groceries. There’s some coupons in the drawer by the sink. Could you go get some groceries for me? I left some curry in the fridge, okay? All you have to do is heat it up--you know how to use a microwave, right? Juuuust kidding~!_
> 
> _But seriously, please don’t burn down the house while I’m gone. Or drop the kids on their heads. Please don’t leave the recycling bin sitting out like you always do. Your clothes better be picked up from the floor when I get back too._
> 
> _Nico_ _♥_

_So that’s where she went_ , Maki mused rationally, too tired to complain further. She could always give Nico a piece of her own experience once she got home late at night if she really felt the need for vengeance.

She set Tooru’s bottle aside and ran the sink, checking occasionally to see if the water had warmed up before running the bottle underneath it. The sound of giggles instead of crying brought her attention over her shoulder, though the headboard blocked her view of the couch. After checking the temperature of the bottle against her inner wrist, she wiped it off and grabbed both bottles. Barely, she saw the illuminated time on the oven light: five twenty-six.

When she neared the couch arm, she saw Naoko blowing raspberries into the air, to which Tooru and Tomomi took utter delight in watching. She groaned, signaling her approach, and tried her best to relax into the couch beside them. Tomomi crawled into her lap. Naoko looked up at her, hands pressed over each other on the couch.

“Go back to bed,” Maki murmured, taking Tomomi’s bottle and trying to get her to feed; Tomomi managed to dodge every time the nipple came close to her lips. Maki grumbled as she continued to struggle.

“But ‘m not tired.” Naoko hopped up and down, as though to prove her point. Maki let her neck rest against the headboard of the couch, biting her bottom lip, and gave up when Tomomi absolutely refused to feed.

“You have school in a few hours. Just try at least. I’ll come in and play a bit if you can’t, okay?” Naoko, never one to disobey her mother, nodded solemnly and sulked off to her bedroom. Maki flinched when Tooru climbed into her lap as well. The twins, now energetic, refused to let her pick them up. She brought the bottle to Tooru’s mouth; he pushed it away with his hands, giggling when the bottle tumbled on the couch. Maki sighed.

At least she’d managed to calm them down. Thanks to Naoko, though, they were wide awake as well. At five thirty in the morning. Maki picked at the crust forming in her tear ducts as she laid back against the couch, blinking hazily at the ceiling. She dropped the bottles to her side in defeat.

A cricket’s hum bounced off the windows, dangerously lulling her to sleep. The twins at her sides kept kicking their feet into her knees, but by this point she couldn’t have cared less. She’d slept in worse states, after all. Sleeping while flying coach was probably the hardest and most uncomfortable way she’s ever slept before. But her couch possessed a certain comfort that made it, at the very least, more bearable.

One of them started pulling on her shirt, but she’d already closed her eyes and had long since passed out.

 

* * *

 

Violently shaken awake with a three-year-old screaming in her ear wasn’t exactly how Maki expected to wake up, but it’s surprising what can happen when you have three kids.

Maki held up a limp hand in defense, unsure of whether to block the sun or cover her ears. Naoko tugged on her arm, her knee, her shirt, anything she could latch her small fingers onto. She panicked when she couldn’t feel the weight of Tomomi or Tooru by her side, and shot up immediately, heart threatening to snap her ribcage. The room spun with her.

“Mommy! Mommy, we’re gonna be late!” Though Naoko certainly slurred her words to an extent, a product of being unable to pronounce words correctly just yet, Maki knew there was no sleepiness in her voice.

“Wh--late--what.” Maki struggled to comprehend what she was saying and sighed in relief when she saw that the two of them lay asleep on the couch to her right. Flashes of accidentally rolling onto the babies, kicking them off the couch, or slapping them upside the head made her grateful for her luck and ashamed for her neglect. Naoko grabbed her arm and tugged, heels digging into the couch, refusing to give Maki a second to relax her rushing mind. “Wh-what’s wrong? Late? Huh… What time is it?”

Naoko only repeated what she’d said earlier, hopping on the couch in frustration. Maki blinked a few times, then turned over her shoulder to look at the oven clock.

Eight fifty-two.

She had less than ten minutes to get changed and get Naoko to preschool.

Standing up abruptly, Maki shooed her daughter off of her. “Go take your pajamas off. I’ll help you get dressed in a bit, okay?” Naoko nodded and dashed off, nearly tripping on flat ground. With the determination to make sure her daughter was not late to school, Maki leaped into action--literally, towards the closet. She knew it was slightly chilly, so she threw on the nearest coat she could grab (which was actually Nico’s coat, she realized only after throwing it on, and then rushed to get a coat that actually _fit_ her from the hallway closet). She then ran into Naoko’s room, thankfully skillfully dodging the train set this time. Maki helped Naoko pull on a dress before tearing her slippers from her feet and put on viable shoes instead--of course, sandals. She then dashed towards the kitchen to grab a lunch box for Naoko.

Did she have everything? Keys, check. Coat, check. Lunch, check. Phone, check. Shoes, check. Kid, check.

Maki was nearly out the door when she remembered that she had left two babies on the couch completely by themselves. She slapped her forehead, doubled back, told Naoko to wait by the front, and slid on the floorboards, catching herself on the couch arm. The two had no qualms today with being picked up today, making for an easy slip into their seats in the stroller by the closet. Huffing, she pulled them to the front, stopping only to grab the two formula bottles she left on the couch last night and toss them unceremoniously in the trash; she could explain it to Nico later.

Once outside, Maki inhaled, stopping to catch her breath. Naoko continued to tug on her arm regardless, and she conceded, pushing the stroller with one hand while holding Naoko’s in the other. Lacking the rush she’d gotten from Naoko’s rude awakening, she found herself dragging her feet against the pavement once more, checking only for cracks to step over. She craned her neck, stretching.

The neighborhood they lived in was what Nico would call the “rich” part of town, whereas Maki felt it was more “homely” and “quaint” rather than overbearingly rich. When they first bought the house, Maki thought it too small; Nico, on the other hand, didn’t even bother to finish listening to her as she flung herself into the bedroom, face-planted on the bed, and rolled around on it, trying to spread her limbs out to cover the whole bed space in bliss.

Maki never initially meant to buy a house in such a kid-friendly neighborhood; if she were truthful (a rare occasion), Maki never wanted kids as a young girl. Now, Maki would place the blame entirely on Nico; it was her fault she had _three_ of them, whereas Maki would’ve been perfectly fine with just one. She thought maybe two wouldn’t be so bad; then, of course, Nico told her they were having twins. Maki looked over the stroller to check on the aforementioned twins, absolutely perturbed at how they could be so entertained by a falling leaf.

She sighed, pushing the stroller along the sidewalk, and knew that she’d have to come home to an empty bed; not that she wasn’t used to it by now, but the fact remained. Though she also wouldn’t have to worry about Nico’s incessant idol girl obsession with her stupid mobile game waking her up at two in the morning, so maybe it wasn’t all _that_ bad. She couldn’t count the number of times on both her hands Nico had woken her up in the middle of the night because of some special event she absolutely could not wait until morning to play, for some spectacularly immature reason.

Right now, Nico was probably playing that very same game on her flight instead of discussing her schedule with her manager.

 _Ugh_. Ever since she’d left, she’d been thinking too much about Nico. Once she got into her head, she stayed there like a parasite. It’s not like she _missed_ her; she had no reason to. She’d be back Sunday night, which only meant she needed to go three days without her. Not survive, because she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself without Nico’s aid, and honestly, it was insulting to assume otherwise. The fact of the matter remained that Maki, and the kids, would be _fine_. She scoffed, thinking about the note Nico had left in the early hours of the morning; she didn’t leave her clothes on the floor _all_ the time. And besides, she got home late last night and was absolutely dead tired. Who thinks about hanging their clothes back up neatly--or making sure they land in the laundry bin--when they’ve had _maybe_ four hours of sleep in the last twenty-four hours at max.

Though she _did_ leave the recycling bin out again. Dammit.

As they passed the community park, she caught a glimpse at a group of mothers in what Maki could only assume to be the “mommy and me” class, standing and sitting in the grass. They turned at the sound of her stroller’s wheels hitting the pavement, and smiled and waved. When she didn’t wave back, they giggled to themselves. Her eyes went wide and she turned away, hearing them saying something to each other barely above a whisper. Did they _recognize_ her? From last time? Oh god. She didn’t think accidentally putting a diaper on backwards could form that much of a lasting first impression. Maki pulled the twin stroller along, hunched over, flushing. She could almost hear Nico’s voice telling her to straighten up and wondered if she was going insane.

She could not walk fast enough, she decided, tugging Naoko along. A few joggers and other passersby tracked her as they moved past, but Maki paid it no mind. Or, at the very least, while she questioned the reason for their rude staring, she made no sign of acting on her impression--except for a dangerous glare here and there.

Her daughter had taken to leaping over the occasional cracks in the sidewalk, putting all her weight on her hand when she nearly tripped. “Excited to go to school, huh?” Maki said out of the blue.

Naoko stopped her antics and flushed, hiding behind the stroller. “Um… sort of.”

“Right…” Maki let her elbows push the stroller while she rubbed the back of her neck. Carrying on meaningful conversation with a three-year-old was never her strong suit. She found it much easier to let them do whatever they want and bother her whenever she _didn’t_ want them to. “Why?”

She really, _really_ should not have asked that question. For as much as Naoko seemed quiet and reserved, she had a growing un-interruptible talkative side to her as well, and Maki knew it well, if her newfound obsession with ordinary rocks was anything to go by.

“Well, uuum, in class we’re gonna do a--” she paused, struggling to find the right word. “--a, uuuummm… I don’ remember wha’ she called it, but it’s gonna be really cool! Trust me, Mommy.”

Maki hummed and pushed the stroller along, letting Naoko talk herself blue in the face. At the very least it served a distraction; Naoko droned on and on about what Maki presumed to be an arts and crafts project of some sort while she listened intently, pulling her daughter aside when she nearly walked right out into traffic at a crosswalk.

She couldn’t remember the last time she got this amount of exercise; every day she spent hunched over at her desk, poised at an operating table, tense in her car or asleep in her bed. Nico always reprimanded her for her poor health choices and forced her to eat _something_ when she got home, which usually meant Nico was wide awake and waiting for her at midnight.

At least she finally had a week off for the first time in--well, a while. Maybe she could take a nap when she got home, Maki thought while scolding Naoko and telling her no, you can’t bring that rock to class because it has germs on it--and stop sticking your finger up your nose after touching it.

They neared the preschool barely on time. Maki checked her phone and pulled Naoko along to quicken her pace, jogging beside her and smiling when Naoko thought it a race. She barrelled ahead and Maki started to slow down, letting her win. Naoko cheered as she passed the gate and turned around to wait for her mother.

“Nishikino-san!” an older woman called out to her, waving her down as she pulled up to the front gate. Maki stopped and stared at the woman, hoping she wasn’t coming across as too rude.

“Oh… Fukuda,” Maki acknowledged after scrambling for the lady’s name.

“Ryuuko-chan was excited about coming to school today. Weren’t you?” Fukuda dipped down at the small girl shyly hiding behind her leg. Maki chuckled half-heartedly in agreement, hoping the conversation would end. Perhaps that was wishful thinking--Fukuda then turned her attention to Maki and gave her an amusing smile. “I can see you were excited too.”

Maki’s brows furrowed and her fake smile turned into a serious frown. “Huh? What do you--”

Naoko pulled on her pants--her pajama pants. The pajama pants she forgot to change out of. The pajama pants she wore last night. The very same pajama pants she had walked two miles in, having watched several cars pass by and a few joggers.

Ears hot, she had to fight the urge to run off and saw Naoko to class, avoiding direct eye contact as many of the parents and staff looked strangely at her. Fukuda smiled to herself, but Maki kept looking straight forward, the memory of her bemused grin burned into her mind. Maki wondered if she could ask Nico to walk Naoko to school from now on, because she was positive every parent here knew her by face and name. After surviving the hallway, she peeked into the classroom. The rest of her classmates had already pulled the room apart practically. Naoko’s caretaker gave Maki a wave; she gave a weak wave back before turning around.

Some of the other parents talked with each other while dropping off--and picking up--their toddlers. They knew Nico well, from what Maki had heard, and they’d heard stories about herself (stories she sincerely hope were anything but embarrassing), but Nico didn’t talk about them much. At least, nothing more than the usual complaint. She decided she would get out of there as quickly as possible before someone decided to flag her down and make her stay for some parent class.

Maki attempted to sneak away from the group, dodging glances. From behind her, Maki heard her daughter say to her teacher, “That’s m’ Mommy! She wears her puhjemas!” Leave it to Naoko to make an already embarrassing situation even worse.

“Isn’t it supposed to be the mother’s job to embarrass her kid?” another mom said absently, garnering a few chuckles. Maki ignored the comment and put the stroller in reverse, then started backing into the hallway while grumbling to herself. So _what_ she accidentally wore her pajamas outside; it was _one time_ , and they were damn comfortable. Not like other people hadn’t done it before. When she took organic chemistry at nine in the morning she was the only one who ever showed up in actual _clothes_ half the time--sans the lab days.

“Oh? Leaving so soon?” Fukuda asked, stopping her in her tracks. Maki groaned internally.

“Yeah, I have some... errands to run.” Maki nodded and gestured for Naoko to run off and play. She gave her mother a look and ran off, shouting several of her friends’ names to gather their attention.

“And some clothes to put on, I think,” she added; Maki flushed deeper--if that was even possible at this point--and waved her away. Fukuda burst into laughter as Maki made her exit.

She walked outside, head hanging in shame. She could never, _ever_ go back there.

 

* * *

 

She couldn’t remember falling asleep again, but she also didn’t remember accidentally putting Nico’s phone in the dishwasher while sleep-deprived, and there was still a (very colorful) notice of complaint (putting it mildly) on their fridge, courtesy of Nico, the morning after. Only this time, her rude awakening took the form of a ringing phone.

Twisting and turning in the sheets, Maki stretched a hand to her left, wildly and blindly looking for her phone. She finally felt the nightstand under her fingers, letting them trail over the drawer, the lamp, the medical journal she still needed to look over for work, until she finally felt her phone vibrating under her palm.

Mumbling, she brought it above her and cursed when it slipped through her fingers and knocked against her nose and teeth. She gnawed on her lip, twisting over again to search for it; she’d only _just_ dropped it and already the sheets enveloped it. Three rings later, she started to worry. Only when she calmed her movements did she finally find it vibrating on Nico’s side of the bed, pulling herself onto her stomach and reaching for it.

She barely glanced at the caller ID and swiped. “Who the hell--”

“Now, that’s no way to greet a friend, is it, Maki-chan?”

“N-Nozomi?” Maki stuttered, bringing her other arm up to rest her ear on her forearm, stretching and extending herself from one edge of the bed to the other. “Why are you calling at--”

“Is it really the time that you think it is? Maybe you should check the clock.” Maki frowned in irritation, even though she knew Nozomi couldn’t see it, and looked over her shoulder at her alarm clock: two in the afternoon.

Maki’s stomach sunk. “Oh.”

“‘Oh,’” Nozomi mimicked, and Maki swore she could hear her grin over the line. “It sounds like you didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

“Not really.” Maki sighed, resuming her previous position, laying her head on the mattress and pressing the phone to her available ear. “The twins woke me up early in the morning and I couldn’t get back to sleep for a while. Then I ended up almost late bringing Naoko-chan to school, and, well… after putting down Tooru-chan and Tomo-chan to nap, I think I passed out.”

Maki heard a “tsk” faintly. “You don’t sleep very well at all, Maki-chan. Are you sure you and Nicocchi are actually sleeping instead of--”

“Oh my god, _stop_.” Maki slammed an arm down on the mattress, pushing herself up. “Don’t you even dare finish that sentence. What are you, twelve?”

Nozomi laughed. “I’m just kidding, Maki-chan. You’re so easy to rile up.” Maki lowered herself down, her face still frozen in horror and indignation. “But really, Maki-chan, you need to take better care of yourself. Nicocchi tries her hardest to get you to eat well, but she also tells me you don’t give yourself any breaks.”

“Are you two gossiping about me behind my back?”

“Jealous?” Nozomi teased. Maki was about to say no when she continued: “No, she’s just expressing worry. And I won’t lie when I say I’m a little worried about you too. That’s why she pushed you to take this break from work. You really need it.”

Maki sighed. “I guess. I just feel like I could be doing something useful.”

“That’s just the workaholic in you talking,” Nozomi said. “I’m sure Naoko-chan’s happy you’re taking work off too. But enough about work. What have you been up to _besides_ work?”

Maki rolled over onto her other side as Nozomi talked, only barely catching the last of her sentence. “Uh, well. I started teaching piano lessons at home recently. The students don’t seem to mind coming here, but I don’t know if I’ll have any snacks to give them this time.

“What else…” Maki said, distracted by her nails as she turned onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “Ah. Tomo-chan’s already started ‘talking’--I mean, if you could call it that. All she really said was ‘no’ repeatedly over and over again when Nico-chan tried to get her dressed, but Tooru-chan’s been quiet.” Maki sighed. “He just kind of mumbles.”

“That sounds like a certain someone I know….”

Maki snorted. “I don’t need to hear that from you.”

“Well, I remember when I first saw him in the hospital. Tomo-chan had nearly the same little grumpy face as you,” Nozomi said. “I even have comparison photos.”

“Stop teasing me,” Maki muttered. Nozomi chuckled. A moment of silence fell over them, Maki unsure whether or not she should keep talking. Had it really been so long since they last spoke?

“So, they’re nine months now, right?” Nozomi’s voice suddenly resounded.

“Mhm,” Maki hummed. “Their birthday is coming up soon. Are you going to come out for it?”

“Of course we will. Elicchi’s their favorite aunt after all. They’d be so disappointed if we couldn’t make it.”

“I dunno. She’s got some pretty intense competition with Rin.” Maki grinned into the receiver. “If she doesn’t come by more often, I think Rin might take her place.”

“Is that an incentive or a threat?”

“It is what it is.”

“Hmm… plane tickets are expensive. Especially international tickets,” Nozomi said.

“Well,” Maki began, pausing to gather her thoughts. “I could help pay for it, I mean. I don’t think Nico-chan would mind.” She sighed. “She already spends too much on her game,” she added under her breath.

“Aw, does Maki-chan want to see us too?”

“W-well, of course. You’re our friends too, after all. Not just our kids'.” Maki crossed an arm over her chest, settling into the bed more comfortably.

For a moment, the phone line was silent. Maki wondered if the call had cut out--international calls, after all, could only hold for so long (it certainly wouldn’t be the first time her routine call with Nozomi had ended abruptly). Just as she was about to speak, she heard shuffling over the receiver.

“You’re so noble, Maki-chan. Thank you, but we don’t need you to do that. We’ll be able to come; nothing’s really too expensive to see our friends, hm?”

“Right…” Maki sat up. “It’s been awhile since you came anyways. Oh, I heard from Nico-chan--you received an award for something?”

Nozomi went silent over the line for a moment, as though surprised. “Yeah. It wasn’t really as special as she probably made it out to be.”

“Because of your new movie that came out recently? The romance one?” Maki asked.

“Mhm.”

“You based that off of our road trip from years ago,” Maki blurted out, having suddenly recalled the film. “I haven’t seen it, but I heard about it from Nico-chan.”

“Well, if you’d ever like to relive a few old memories, I could set you up.” Nozomi said. “It’s not terrible to get sentimental every once in a while, you know.”

“I don’t really like to focus on the past much.” Maki said, twirling a strand of hair. Upon realizing how knotty it was, she knew she needed a brush. “Plus, isn’t it in English?”

“There are subtitles. Are you sure you don’t want to see it just because you’re embarrassed of all the recordings I got of you and Nicocchi arguing?” She giggled. “I wonder who could’ve rubbed that off on you.”

Maki didn’t answer as she reached over and pulled out the nightstand drawer, rummaging through stacks of paper and loose paper clips for a hairbrush. She thought she had put it in here last night…. Maybe Nico took it out when she got up? Maki hummed in thought to herself and quickly checked Nico’s nightstand.

“What kind of award was it?” Maki asked, using her other free hand to search Nico’s drawer. Inside were several pieces of idol merchandise she was sure Nico had forgotten about and two handfuls of iTunes gift cards. She subconsciously frowned.

“Oh, it was a small film directing award. Nothing much, really, compared to the other nominees.”

Maki let out an exasperated sigh, pulling herself to her feet. She heard Nozomi squeak, probably confused, and clarified: “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Nozomi. You make it sound like it was nothing. And after how many years of acting and directing?”

“More than I remember,” Nozomi admitted. “For a long time, a lot of people called me ‘The Japanese Leonardo DiCaprio.’”

“He’s that, uh... one American actor you like, right?” She walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Where the hell was that damn brush?

“Mhm. He and I are actually going to be starring in another movie soon. The role I applied for was actually supposed to be a man’s role, but they took me anyways.”

Maki raised a brow and curled her lips into an ‘o.’ “Really?”

“It’s all a matter of willpower, Maki-chan. Put your mind to it, and you can do anything.”

“What’s it about?”

“It’s a psychological thriller, and that’s all the info I can really divulge now. At least, until the trailer comes out. Although I might be able to make an exception for a friend. Maybe you two could come here for opening night, hm?”

“If we can find someone to watch the kids. I don’t think they’d enjoy a horror movie.” Maki said while peeking around the doorframe to check on the twins, playing together in Tooru’s crib.

“Psychological thriller,” she corrected.

“Right. That.” Maki slowly shut the door before turning on her heels. “Maybe Rin would be willing. They love her anyways, and she’s good with kids.” She finally noticed the brush sitting on the kitchen counter, hovering her phone near her ear while she tried to brush.

“Rin has a natural talent with kids. She would make a good elementary school teacher, I think. Or maybe she should open up her own daycare.”

“I don’t know what sort of black magic she does, but she can get Tooru-chan and Tomo-chan to fall asleep _instantly_. Even Nico-chan can’t do that. And I especially can’t do that,” she admitted, setting the brush down to run a hand through her hair before picking it back up and setting her sights on the dangerous knots near her scalp. She had the absolute worst bedheads and despised Nico for her seemingly perfect hair that somehow survived the night. Though, to be fair, Nico didn’t toss and turn in her sleep as much as she did.

“Speaking of small bundles of joy, I heard through the grapevine they adopted a puppy recently, didn’t they?”

Maki laughed. “Yeah, that they did. And it slobbered all over me when I went over to pick up Naoko-chan. I’m pretty sure most of my clothes are completely stained with fur.” Maki grimaced and added, “And dog saliva.”

Nozomi made a dejected hissing noise. “Oh, Oden won’t be happy to hear that. You know how jealous he gets.”

“ _Good_ , then. Your dog should really learn personal space. He’s way too big to be jumping on laps.” Maki pinched her brows together as the brush slid through a particularly knotty section of her hair.

“Well, what can I say? He’s a lapdog.” Nozomi laughed.

“Not when he’s nearly seventy pounds, no. He’s a ground dog, and he should _stay_ on the ground.”

“You’ll hurt his feelings, Maki-chan. Is that what you want to do?”

“He’s a dog.”

Maki heard scuffling over the phone, and then the sound of barking. Apparently Nozomi had gone to get said dog. She tried to say something, but Oden’s barking and presumably slobbering drowned her out.

“Ah, one second, Maki-chan,” she heard Nozomi say. Maki sighed, setting the phone on the table and tapping the speaker button, then used both her hands to pull on her hair. Dammit, where was her scrunchie?

She left Nozomi (and her dog) temporarily to scavenge the kitchen for her scrunchie, keeping an ear out for when Nozomi would return. She’d _just_ worn it to work yesterday. It couldn’t have disappeared that quickly. She might’ve been inclined to say Nico had misplaced that too; Nico had an unexplainable aura that made you want to hold her responsible for everything.

By the time she had finally found her scrunchie (next to the toaster; how the hell did it get _there_ , of all places?) Nozomi repeated her name into the line.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Maki said quickly, taking the phone off speaker after she’d pulled her hair into a ponytail and slung it over her shoulder. Her forehead scrunched when she felt a headache coming on.

“You sound more awake now,” Nozomi noted.

“I guess I do,” she said, but still instinctively turned on the Keurig coffee machine--old habits die hard, even if Nico had told her time and time again to cut down on the caffeine. What was she feeling today: hazelnut, plain medium, maybe one that came with creamer already in it? She defaulted to her usual--plain, with maybe a bit of creamer (Nico complained she left her coffee too bitter to share [when she wasn’t complaining about her caffeine addiction])--and waited.

“How has Eli been?” she said over the thrumming of the coffee machine.

“Elicchi has a ballet performance next weekend; the one I told you about before. Ever since they told her she got the lead role, she’s been practicing nonstop, even in the kitchen. She puts Evelyn on her toes and waltzes around. She just loves it.” She took only a momentary break to catch her breath, nervously chuckling at her own rambling. “I’ll have to show you a video sometime. Evelyn’s excited to go visit Japan again. It’s all she ever really talks about anymore. And seeing Naoko again, of course.”

“She’s pretty energetic,” Maki said.

“Well, she _is_ a nine-year-old. Oh, she asked Elicchi if she could have a Bat-Mitzvah the other day.”

Maki pursed her lips. “Really? Has she been practicing?”

“Mhm. Elicchi and she practice using her old siddur. She’s becoming pretty good at it. Maybe she’ll be multilingual one day.”

“If that’s supposed to be a jab at me, then--”

“It wasn’t, but I am curious. Don’t you speak even a little Hebrew?”

“Not really.” She shrugged. “I learned how to read it, but I never really understood what I was saying as a kid.”

“Well, maybe you could still practice. You’ll need to be able to help Naoko when she goes through hers, hm?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.” Maki took a sip of her newly-brewed coffee.

“Suit yourself, Maki-chan~. Now, did you watch the--” she paused for dramatic effect, “--new episode?”

Maki, having strode over to the couch in an Elegant and Poised Manner, befitting one of her caliber and certainly not like she had _just_ gotten out of bed, set her cup down on the couch and grinned.

 

* * *

 

By the time Maki and Nozomi had started talking about the mid-season premiere of merely _one_ of their multitude of favorite T.V. shows, her phone buzzed with a skillfully-set reminder to pick Naoko up from school. Not to say that Maki would have forgotten to pick her up--not at _all_. It was merely insurance in case she happened to lose track of time, as such was the case for a majority of the time she spent on her phone, specifically with Nozomi. She knew Nico would chastise her about the phone bill and how “absolutely expensive international calls are” when she got home.

She walked to the school-- _with_ pants on, this time; she was a _lady_ and would appear presentable in public even when she felt like she was going to fucking keel over and die from exhaustion--slower than she had done so dropping Naoko off. And she had returned in nearly as quick a fashion, drawing less stares than before as well. Now, she appeared a simple, Ordinary Mother of Three with very nice pants, and who was totally not walking with a slight hunch in her back.

Nonetheless, by the time she got back, Naoko whined for dinner, and Maki had no choice to oblige. She would make something for Naoko, feed the twins, and then _maybe_ , after that, she could find time to eat _something_ of substance and not cheese on bread--flat, untoasted bread, because she couldn’t even trust herself to use the toaster without causing a fire--like she had eaten for meals on countless occasions before Nico finally started making her boxed lunches to eat from instead while she was away and unable to cook dinner. Maki could at the very least admit her own shortcomings in the area of cooking; she tried to learn from her mother, her father, a professional, even Nico. The closest she ever came to creating even a piece of edible cooked food was when she made eggs (with the ever-present help of a sous chef monitoring her every move and panicking when she left the stove unattended for nearly 5 minutes, effectively rendering the eggs crispy, but not totally inedible), and even _that_ didn’t turn out as she’d hoped when she tried to use a fork to get a piece of toast that was stuck out from the toaster.

She never _claimed_ to be a professional.

Still, there were only so many times Maki could eat the same leftovers before she drove herself crazy. Nico was, at least, sweet enough to make her a bento lunch for work every day, even though she didn’t always have the time to eat (all of) it. And, in unusual circumstances where Maki has the weekend off, or when Nico doesn’t have any public events coming up, they eat together at the table, like a family.

And it’s a very lively family, Maki noticed. Similar to when she first went over to Nico’s for dinner--her sisters were loud and annoying, Cotaro kept drooling over his food instead of eating it, and Nico was--well, Nico. But it was a different change of pace from when she usually ate with her family at dinner, silent save for a few mundane comments. A completely different change.

Maki loved it. She didn’t really think she’d love it as much as she did, and she’d never admit to Nico that she could no longer imagine life without those rambunctious dinners, but she loved it. She loved watching it more-so than participating in it, but she wouldn’t mind indulging Nico’s sisters for a few minutes (which then turned into one hour, and then to two, and by the time Maki left, she’d stayed nearly five hours longer than she meant to).

For her, neatly labeled “for Maki” in the fridge, was a plate of pasta wrapped in plastic. And for Naoko were some green peppers and rice--the only things Naoko would eat unconditionally, for some reason. She took out the small portion of green peppers and closed the fridge.

After giving Naoko her dinner along with some utensils to use (and scolding her for using her fingers), Maki prepared for her greatest challenge. No, Tooru would go quietly. He couldn’t resist the bottle for long. But _Tomomi_. Not even Nico could get her to drink her bottle on most occasions; but there was no running here. Not anymore. She _had_ to be hungry after a long day of playing and napping. There was no conceivable way she wasn’t hungry.

As she washed the next bottle she had available and measuring the formula, she prepared it to the best of her abilities--the simplest, easiest way Nico had shown her, since she was too stubborn to leave formula in the fridge for a day, complaining that it would go bad, and _then_ complaining that Maki didn’t understand how to prepare formula, and that was all the incentive Maki needed to learn.

 _Incentive_ being keyword. There was still a lot of trial and error to go.

She shook the bottle well; Nico wouldn’t leave her to take care of their three kids if she couldn’t make formula. And she _was_ a Responsible Adult, as much as Nico hated to admit it.

Before she could reach for the second bottle, Naoko spoke up from the table, “Mommy, can you taste the…?”

Maki waited for her to finish, but it seemed she already had. She turned, trying to look at what Naoko was pointing at--her small side portion of fish.

“It’s just fish. It’s not going to hurt you.”

“But I--but I don’ like it.”

Maki suppressed a groan. This kid was going to be the end of her. She reached forward and with her fingers took a small piece of fish--smaller than the bits already on her plate--and was about to stick it in her mouth when Naoko stopped her.

“Not like that, Mommy.” Naoko’s lips pouted.

“Like what?” Maki asked, confused.

Naoko clumsily gave her the fork she held with her fist instead of her first three fingers. Maki flattened her lips, begrudgingly took the fork and ate the smallest bite she could. Fishy. Naoko looked expectantly at her.

“See? It tastes just fine. Keep eating until your plate is clean,” she said, smacking her lips before returning to her formula station. Naoko sat, glum and picking at her food and occasionally slipping a pepper past her lips. Maki prepared the next bottle, turning over her shoulder every now and then to be sure Naoko wasn’t faking out on her dinner. Maki chuckled.

“You’ll like gefilte fish one day.”

She heard a gag from the table.

“They’re such tiny pieces! You probably can’t even taste it.” Naoko jokingly gagged again and then burst out into laughter at her own noises, filling the kitchen and dining room.

She left Naoko to sit in her own giggles in the dining room and entered the twins’ room, kicking some of their (and Naoko’s) toys to the side so she couldn’t make a fool of herself like last time. She came upon Tooru, calm and quiet, and Tomomi, struggling to get out of her crib. Maki decided she might as well start with the most difficult one and progressively ease herself down to Tooru, who would be much easier to handle.

Setting Tooru’s bottle on the dresser, she leaned over the crib railing and plucked Tomomi up, sitting her across her knee in the corner rocking chair. Tomomi glared until Maki used her index finger to poke at her chin; she erupted into wet giggles.

“You’re a little trouble buster, when you want to be.” Maki frowned at her in the most serious face she could muster, and that only served to make Tomomi laugh harder. Maki huffed, relaxing her shoulders, and she thought for a second Tomomi was going to laugh herself blue in the face. What was so _funny_ about it.

After nearly a forty-five minute endeavor (contrasted to the mere fifteen minutes it usually took Tooru to feed), Maki could feel all of her energy getting sucked out of her body when Tomomi sucked on the bottle. It was as if that was her plan all along; weaken her by making her expend more energy to force the kid to not _starve_ herself, then comply without any trouble and leave her mother wondering why she had to put up with this. She let her burp after her meal, having already made the mistake of thinking that more than one burp was not necessary and afterwards receiving the Quite Disgusting present of having baby vomit drape her lap.

At least she finished the bottle this time. Ish. She could just dump the rest out--Nico would never notice anyways.

Probably not long before Maki had put both in their cribs, Naoko had finished her dinner and already sat on the couch, engrossed in the T.V. Maki leaned over the couch, cheek resting on her fist, watching with droll curiosity as she tried to understand why Naoko was so entertained by a bunch of singing, weird actors in stage costumes.

She made the mistake of asking Naoko what she did at preschool today. And Maki counted--she must’ve said “um” thirty-seven times. Probably a record for her.

But being the responsible and classy adult Maki is, she knew when Naoko needed to go to bed. And when she _herself_ should go to bed--should, not usually could. Though in this case, she finally could go to sleep at a reasonable hour without the threat of being called into work looming over her head precariously. She almost set her alarm for four in the morning before realizing she _didn’t_ actually have to work tomorrow. In retrospect, Maki probably could’ve taken a vacation whenever she wanted, but she hated leaving her patients in someone else’s care. The only way she’d been convinced to take this weekend off was simply because it had been planned so far in advance.

Though she planned the break, she hadn’t really planned what to _do_ during it. Maybe just sleep? She had planned on visiting the hospital anyways to check on her patients; maybe Rin could babysit for her while she did that? But she promised Nico she wouldn’t even _think_ about work.… Maybe she could just call a co-worker and ask them to check up on her patients for her--but wouldn’t that be kind of cheap?

She supposed she could figure it out tomorrow.

Coaxing Naoko to bed took more time than she’d have cared to admit. Naoko could be stubborn if she felt like it, though she didn’t usually give much trouble. Maki promised her, with one hundred percent certainty, that she could watch her show tomorrow, for a reasonable amount of time, if she went to bed now. She nudged her gently towards her room, tried to help her change into her clothes only to be met with a fierce no as Naoko demanded to change herself, though struggled to get her footie pajamas on. Maki eventually convinced her it was okay to ask for help, and then picked her up, swung her around for a bit to tire her out to Naoko’s amusement, and set her down on the bed. Naoko quickly huddled underneath the covers.

She asked her to play something on the piano--the toy piano in her room. Maki cringed.

“It’s just a toy piano. It’s not very good at--”

Upon seeing her begging face, _the_ begging face, with glittering violet eyes, Maki obliged reluctantly. She tapped a few extraordinarily offbeat keys, flinching at how someone so completely inept could create such a monstrosity that dared call itself a piano. Despite being completely unplayable and having absolutely no real musical Genius behind its plastic design, Maki played an agonizing tune until Naoko was comfortable and hoped to god that the racket hadn’t woken the twins up.

Maki chided herself, doubling back around to the bathroom to brush her teeth before she forgot. Nico always chided her for forgetting (“How can you be a _doctor_ and not take proper care of your teeth?”  “I’m a doctor, Nico-chan, not a dentist.”). Like she needed someone to remind her. She hardly ate anyways, so what was there to floss out half the time?

She lumbered to her room, her body more dead weight than alive.

If there was one thing Maki could count on for some semblance of the fragile illusion of peace, it was her piano. The grand piano she brought from her parents’ house and moved into her own semi-private space (semi only because there was no door separating it and the living room, but an archway) was one of the only ways she could escape Nico’s version of “reality” (esp. her consistent mumbles of “I love you Dia” followed by Maki’s manicured backhand--some habits just won’t die, no matter how much Maki tried to beat it out of her).

She usually taught between four lessons from noon to two, though sometimes less. Saturday was the only day she taught lessons, which left her students with little room to maneuver. But she _was_ the best teacher their probably-rich moms could afford, not to toot her own horn in any way; it was simply a fact. One student had been progressing faster than he had with any previous teacher, she’d been told by one of the parents.

Back in high school, when she was a third year panicking over her future as any ordinary third year would, she accidentally broke down (mentally, not _physically_ ; Maki would never, _ever_ cry in front of Nico) and asked for her help, as Nico was the only person available. She didn’t know if she should inherit the Nishikino General Hospital, in accordance with her parents’ wishes, or pursue her passion for music--a field she ultimately felt she would be happier in, but unsure of due to the guilt she’d feel upon abandoning her parents’ legacy. Her then Just-A-Really-Annoying-Friend Nico gave her the most useful advice she’d ever heard, though she’d never tell Nico that.

Why _did_ she have to pick just _one_? Why couldn’t she do both? Who was to say she, the Great Maki Nishikino, couldn’t find time to pursue her passion _and_ save lives at the same time?

From there, Maki knew exactly what she wanted to do, without regrets.

She sat at her piano, fingers trailing over the keys noiselessly. Her proper upkeep regarding its wood and tuning left it nearly as perfect a condition as the day her parents first bought it for her. It was still old, after nearly twenty years of usage, but she was diligent in taking care of it, and it showed. Adorning its plaque was the brand Yamaha, the only one her parents felt would be appropriate for her. This was also the very same piano Maki recorded many of μ's songs when she wanted to practice at home.

Without really knowing why, her fingers fell into a familiar position and started playing the first notes to Aishiteru Banzai. Her lips thin, she scrunched her brows in recollection as she tried to remember what note came next, and soon she fell into a rhythm. And, eventually, she began humming the tone she remembered so well. Naoko peeked from behind the corner into the kitchen, smiling and running to her side.

To say Naoko tried to sing would be an overestimate of what “singing” is. But Maki laughed and found herself singing along, Naoko every so often trailing off or correcting her mumbled words at the last second so that they matched what her mom sung. A chorus of a mother’s and her three year old’s _la la la_ ’s filled the room.

She knew her first student of the day would be arriving soon, and she always prided herself for being early--even if the lesson did take place at her own house, she could still be courteous and make sure the piano was tuned. And what better way to test it by playing a song she knew perfectly by ear? Maki played through the chorus twice until she nearly mistook the doorbell for an unplayed key; the lyrics died in her throat, and the piano cut off abruptly. She stood up and ran to the door, motioning for Naoko to scurry off.

“Good afternoon, Ishida,” she greeted the boy--Ishida, a new student only on his second lesson--and brought him to her beloved piano. He nodded politely and set his bags down, and Maki motioned for him to take a seat. She embodied the strict aspect of a teacher that nearly every student was terrified of, but her expertise was beyond compare.

“Why don’t you show me how much you’ve been practicing your scale?” Maki more ordered than asked. The boy, startled for a moment, bowed and took a seat, bringing his hand up to the piano and taking a moment to discern exactly where he needed to play. She reached forward to help him, but he had quickly found the scale a split second before she could tell him where.

She motioned for him to play, and he did. Maki watched intently in silence while he shyly let his fingers press on the C, then D, then E, and so forth until he had performed the entire C scale and doubled the steps backwards from G, to F, to E, until C, slowly. His fingers bent at an awkward angle, Maki noticed. She observed him for a few more scales until finally she couldn’t contain her irk.

“Hang on. You need to learn how to play properly.” She shook her head, bringing her hands to the keyboard next to his. Ishida looked accusingly at her, but didn’t dare question her. Maki glared back. “Yes, properly. You can’t play without learning how to position your hands, or you’ll end up cramping them. Maybe worse. Here, look.”

Maki sat down at the bench, bringing her hand level with his. Her wrist rested poised and straight as her five fingers rested on the keys. “Keep your fingers like this, and don’t bend your wrist. When you press down with your thumb, use the side. And when you press down with your fingers, use the tips, not the flat underside.”

For the next thirty minutes (much to Ishida’s annoyance), she criticized his hand movements and adjusted them accordingly, occasionally taking a seat beside him until he had finally learned to keep his wrist straight. He still moved slowly from key to key, but he was also only a beginner, Maki sourly noted. She did this until time was up--thirty minutes went by quickly--and Maki had to shoo him out. The next student came immediately afterwards (a boy with more piano lessons under his belt than the previous), then the next (a girl who told Maki the first day her goal was to be able to play Flight of the Bumblebee), until finally it was two and Maki could relax. Sort of. Naoko had been in the living room the entire time, quiet as a mouse as per Maki’s orders, and she scampered into the music room when she heard the last student leave, tugging on Maki’s pant leg.

She looked down and saw Naoko was holding a band-aid. “Did it come off?”

“Mm.” Naoko nodded. She tried to put it on Maki, who recoiled instinctively away, a grimace of disgust frozen in place. Unperturbed, Naoko only tried again.

“N-no, Naoko-chan, that’s dirty. Why are you doing that?” Maki chided; Naoko shrugged. She took the band-aid from her hands and stood up from the bench, tossing it in the trash and reaching into the kitchen medicine cabinet.

“Here. We’ll put another one. Just don’t pull it off this time.” Maki looked down at Naoko, waiting until she had nodded fully and truthfully to wrap another band-aid around her finger with a small, stinging papercut. Naoko nodded and dashed off immediately afterwards. She felt dizzy afterwards, probably because she realized while standing in the kitchen that she forgot to eat the pasta Nico left for her in the fridge. Fantastic. She finally had the _time_ to eat, but still lacked the energy. Finally left to her own devices, Maki sighed and slung herself on the couch, pulling her phone out to check it. Several messages from Rin, of course. Unsurprising.

> rinrinringabell: MAKI-CHAAAN  
>  rinrinringabell: maki-chan maki-chan maki-chan  
>  rinrinringabell:  。७﹏७ 。  
>  rinrinringabell: if i say your name enough times you’ll HAVE to respond  
>  rinrinringabell: maki-chaaaaan
> 
> n1kino is online!
> 
> n1kino: I was with some students.  
>  rinrinringabell: MAKI-CHAN THERE YOU ARE  
>  rinrinringabell: i’ve been looking all over for you! metaphorically speaking (￣ω￣)  
>  rinrinringabell: the sour puss is here and accounted for!!!  
>  rinrinringabell: and so is her trusty copilot kitten manning the mouse! ヾ(=^・・^)ヾ(^^ )  
>  rinrinringabell: because her paws are too big for the keyboard  
>  rinrinringabell: and because i  
>  n1kino: Yes, okay, I get it. Cat pun. Chasing mice. Yes.  
>  rinrinringabell: ♪♪♪ Ｕ・ｪ・Ｕ人(^･x･^=) ♪♪♪  
>  rinrinringabell: ANYWAYS  
>  rinrinringabell: i heard nico-chan went out of townnn  
>  rinrinringabell: rin thought maki-chan would be lonely so i decided to pay you some nyattention  
>  rinrinringabell: :3c  
>  n1kino: I’m not really, but thanks, I guess?  
>  n1kino: The twins haven’t been giving me too much trouble, sort of.  
>  rinrinringabell: weeelllllllll  
>  rinrinringabell: if you ever need someone to babysit, i’m just a call away  
>  rinrinringabell: wink wink wink wink  
>  n1kino: Well.  
>  n1kino: Maybe next weekend.  
>  rinrinringabell: oooooh do you have a hot date with nico-chan  
>  rinrinringabell: it sounds like you’ve got some plans ;3  
>  n1kino: If we don’t end up killing each other, maybe.  
>  rinrinringabell: where are you gonna go?? i hope its the zoo  
>  n1kino: Um, no.  
>  n1kino: It’s been awhile since we last went out. I was going to ask Nico-chan where she wanted to go when she got back.  
>  rinrinringabell: tsk tsk maki-chan  
>  rinrinringabell: you can’t expect your lady to make all the decisions for you!!  
>  rinrinringabell: you’ve gotta be BOLD maki-chan  
>  n1kino: I’m a Lady too.  
>  rinrinringabell: that’s BESIDES the point.  
>  rinrinringabell: has your romance already dried up?!??!??!!  
>  n1kino: Nico-chan is about as romantic as a paper clip.  
>  rinrinringabell: oh no…………..  
>  rinrinringabell: it’s worse than i thought  
>  rinrinringabell: okay, just leave it to me!!! i’ll give you two all the time alone you need  
>  n1kino: No, I meant. Nico-chan isn’t romantic.  
>  n1kino: In the sense that  
>  n1kino:  
>  n1kino: Nevermind.  
>  rinrinringabell: just leave it to rin ㅇㅅㅇ  
>  n1kino: Right.  
>  n1kino: How have you and Hanayo been?  
>  rinrinringabell: you can’t forget about nissin and ichiban!!!!!!  
>  n1kino: ….You named the dog Nissin?  
>  rinrinringabell: you met her maki-chan!! wasn’t she just the CUTEST  
>  n1kino: If by “cute” you mean “gross and slobbery” then yes, she was the absolute cutest beyond compare.  
>  rinrinringabell: when you get a puppy because naoko-chan asks for one you’ll understand ヽ(=^･ω･^=)丿  
>  rinrinringabell: or maybe she’ll be more of a cat person!!!  
>  rinrinringabell: i bet she’s gonna be a cat person like yours truly :3  
>  n1kino: I doubt it.  
>  rinrinringabell: awww are you jealous she’ll spend more time with the cat than with you  
>  n1kino: Wh  
>  n1kino: No??? Why would she spend more time with a dumb cat instead of me.  
>  n1kino: Besides I’d  
>  n1kino: I’d enjoy the peace and quiet anyways. Dogs are too loud.  
>  n1kino: And!! I already have enough on my plate with three kids, I don’t need a pet!  
>  rinrinringabell: (=｀ω´=)  
>  n1kino: I don’t need one.  
>  rinrinringabell: (^・ω・^ )  
>  n1kino: Stop.  
>  rinrinringabell: (=ＴェＴ=)  
>  n1kino: You’re impossible.  
>  rinrinringabell: d(=^･ω･^=)b

Maki sighed, prepared to close her phone and let Rin virtually scream into an empty void, but saw another message pop up--this time, from… Honoka?

> honkhonk: SO  
>  honkhonk: this might be a long chain but  
>  honkhonk: nozomi told eli to tell me to tell YOU  
>  honkhonk: to check your phone messages  
>  honkhonk: geez maki-chan be a little more responsible!!

Before she could respond, Honoka went offline just as quickly as she’d messaged her--probably still working at her sweet shop. Maki closed her messages and opened up her voicemail.

She saw it had one new message. From Nico.

“Nico-Nico-nii~. It’s your favorite idol and love of your life, Nico! You’re probably busy totally not working and stuff, but I’m just calling to remind you to eat every once in a while. It’s not gonna kill you. And to remind you to bring in the recycling bin, because I _know_ you didn’t--”

Crap.

“--and to buy groceries!”

Double crap.

“My next concert is starting soon, so I gotta go. Don’t have _too_ much fun, Sour Puss.”

The call clicked out and Maki dashed to the street to get the bin that had been sitting out there for two days, practically tripping over the curb. A neighbor watched her exit and go back inside just as quickly.

She called for Naoko, who came running at her heels, to get ready to go out. Then, she pulled the twin’s stroller out from the closet, and--

_Snap!_

That didn’t sound like it was supposed to happen. Maki’s stomach churned. Please still work, please still work, please still--

Fuck. She broke it. Snapped one of the wheels right off. Good fucking job Maki Nishikino. What the fuck was she going to do now? She couldn’t bring the twins in that stroller.

She rummaged through the closet. Wait. There were some baby carriers here. Maybe she could figure out how to put these on. Somehow. She could totally do it; how hard could it be? All you had to do was swing one arm through this strap, and… something.

Maki went to get the twins for practice and snagged some coupons on the way. Because Nico was a cheap shit.

 

* * *

 

Nearly thirty trials of error later (including Maki muttering “I broke the stroller, but it’s okay, Mommy can fix this,” setting Baby One (Tomomi) in Carrier One, moving to grab Baby Two (Tooru) only to find that Baby One had nearly crawled off the edge of the couch, putting Baby One back in the carrier, and then turning around to see Baby Two chewing on the straps, wash, rinse, and repeat), Maki finally found a way to sling one over her back and keep the other on her front. It was kind of like slipping a bra on--just put it on in the front and slide it to the back. In a way, except two babies were a lot heavier than two boobs, especially--well, a certain someone’s pathetically-sized chest.

The baby carriers themselves were… not necessarily _un_ comfortable, to say the least, but with one kid strapped to her chest and the other strapped to her back, it felt more like wearing a lead jacket. She swore that customers at the far end of the grocery store heard the door chime and felt oddly vulnerable. Pulling Naoko along, she carefully sidestepped other customers, crisply aware of the fact that Tomomi was on her back and with one careless swing she could send her flying into a stall of soup cans. Not a fun story to tell later.

At least she was finally here. She strode forward, grabbing a cart and pulling out the list of items Nico wrote down for her to get. An incredibly _long_ and _detailed_ list describing a food type, a preferred brand, and a maximum total amount of money she wanted to spend on groceries at the bottom. Maki grit her teeth.

Excuse me after excuse me, Maki slid her way through the grocery store, calling for Naoko to slow down every now and then (and apologizing to a man with tattoos when she nearly bumped into him) while she browsed an aisle for one of the items Nico had put on the list she left. Refusal to stop and ask for assistance when she had walked around the store three times unable to find the dairy aisle left her stubbornly loitering in the bread aisle, pretending to look over some brands of bread. Just how many brands did there _need_ to be, honestly? And why didn’t they have any challah? Honestly, none of the bakeries here had some and Maki wasn’t sure how else she was going to order it other than internationally at this rate. Nico would care, but ultimately it wasn’t her place to complain since it wasn’t her money. Sort of.

After she was fairly certain she could recite every brand in the entire bread aisle from one end to the other, a woman came up to her. Maki hadn’t noticed her at first until she spoke up.

“Do you need any help?” she asked.

Just say yes.

Just _say yes_.

Just do it. Just save yourself the trouble.

“Oh, no, I’m fine.”

Her ego won again, as usual.

The lady nodded politely and walked away, leaving Maki to berate herself. She nearly let her head drop to the cart when she remember she had a baby (or two) on board. Ugh. Might as well just skip the milk, then. She stopped to toss some spices in the cart from the aisle opposite and check her list for the next bullet point, frowned, and decided to skip “iTunes gift card” as well before pushing the cart along.

Next on her list: the vegetables and fruit were fairly easy to get--except Maki palmed an orange in her hand, trying to ascertain _how_ she could _possibly_ tell if it was ripe or not, and nervously looked around at the other customers for almost five minutes. She finally gave up and shoved them in several bags. Maki checked each vegetable and fruit off individually, then saw “ _I know you ignored the last one dammit I told you to get me an iTunes gift card_ ” scribbled into the margin with an arrow pointing again at the iTunes gift card Maki had skipped previously. She skipped it again.

She pushed along, glancing back and forth between down at the paper and in front of her. Catching a few stares, Maki thought about how odd the four of them must look—her kids looked almost nothing like her, all with black hair and only one with her eyes. They were, quite literally, mini Nicos, and the thought terrified her as she wondered how they would act when they were older. Another woman stopped her to ask how old the twins were. Maki told her nine months, and the woman laughed, noting how healthy they were. Unable to take the very strange and unsolicited compliment, Maki politely nodded and nervously laughed, waved her goodbye, and turned back to the shelf she was browsing. Tomomi and Tooru hung on her back and front respectively slowly moving their arms, each probably bored out of their mind.

“Trust me, this is just as painful for me as it is for you two,” Maki said while turning over a can of soup and, after seeing that it wasn’t on sale, sighed and put it back to pick up another brand. Per Nico’s orders, of course; Maki didn’t give two honest shits whether or not everything she picked out was on sale, but Nico absolutely _had_ to get everything on sale and gave very direct orders commanding so. Maki would rather have to pay extra than spend all this time comparing prices when she _could_ have already bought everything she needed (sans milk) and gotten back home so she could collapse on the couch and watch Netflix already. Medical dramas were absolutely, hilariously inaccurate and that was the _sole_ reason she watched them.

But no, she’s here counting mental math in her head and trying to figure out if Nico would care if she snuck some of her guilty pleasure chocolates in the total bill.

Eventually deciding on what she presumed to be a store brand, Maki sighed and pulled Naoko away from the candy aisle. When she caught up to her, Maki scolded her, picking up a candy bar Naoko had snuck into the cart. In fact, she had hoped her preoccupied stance would have deterred anyone from speaking to her, but when she heard an all-too-familiar and unwelcomed voice, she froze.

“Nishikino-san?”

Oh. Oh no.

“Nishikino-san! It’s me, Fukumori Hinata. Your co-worker!”

Maki swallowed and turned around, making eye-contact when she knew she really shouldn’t have. The man, tall and wearing a suit, approached her after waving her down to stop.

“Fukumori,” she said informally, “it’s, um… odd to see you here.” That sounded a little cruel, but she couldn’t figure out what _else_ to say in this situation.

“I know, right? It’s a small world after all.” He laughed obnoxiously loud; apparently he had told the best joke in the world. “You know, it’s funny--I was just thinking about you--”

“Um--you were?” Maki interjected.

“Yeah! I was just thinking about how great it is that there are more female doctors now, huh?”

Oh great. This speech again.

“Like, wow. To think we might not have met if it was a different time period! It’s mind-boggling. Wow. We just so happened to meet because we both became doctors and because we work at the same hospital. Just wow! And, you know, even so, I think we might’ve met still in a different time period anyways. It just kind of feels like we would, right? Don’t you think?”

Maki grimaced. “Um, yeah. Look I’m--”

“You’re an inspirational doctor, Nishikino-san. Thank you for letting me have the opportunity to work with you! Oh, and I’m a bit busy with work right now. I’m only taking the weekend off. But maybe some other time we could go grab coffee or something?”

At this point, Maki wasn’t even sure if he’d ever let her get a word in. But when she heard his pause, she finally--

“But if not, that’s okay!”

\--nevermind.

“Um, I-I guess? Maybe? I’ll have to… look at my schedule too. I’m kind of booked also.”

“Ah, well, that’s fine. That’s the life of a doctor, huh? And a neurosurgeon at that.” Fukumori chuckled to himself. “I was just getting some dinner for tonight. What are you getting?”

Maki cleared her throat. “Oh, you know… just food stuff. That my wife needs.” She paused to look incredulously at him. “I’m just getting some things that my _wife_ asked me to get.”

“Well, that’s sweet of you.” He nodded, though Maki wasn’t sure if he actually comprehended what she just said. “Oh, speaking of sweet little things, your daughter is adorable,” he said, pointing at Tooru wriggling on her chest.

Maki looked like she was going to have an aneurysm. “A-actually, Tooru-chan is a boy--”

He looked at his watch with impeccable timing. “Would you look at the time. I have to get home soon if I want to start cooking. Well, I’ll see you at work, Nishikino-san!”

With that, her co-worker walked away. Maki didn’t even want to look over her shoulder in case he took that as an invitation to keep talking more. After that encounter, Maki wouldn’t be surprised if her life expectancy just shortened. It was bad enough dealing with him at work, but now he was _here_? In the store where she could probably bump into him multiple times? And where multiple times is probably more than just a coincidence?

Yeah, she was never showing her face in this store ever again. Nico would have to do all the grocery shopping from now on or they’d all starve.

She needed to finish up and find a register _fast_.

Pulling Naoko along, she searched for item after item (dutifully ignoring the numerous iTunes gift cards Nico had left on the list as well) until Naoko said she needed to go to the bathroom and Maki, fantastic mother that she was, waited outside for her with a cart full of groceries and the twins, Tomomi wrapping her short arms around Maki’s neck as far as she could and pulled. Maki choked, and Tomomi giggled at the weird sound.

Now her own kid was trying to kill her. Great.

After Naoko finally emerged from the bathroom, she ducked behind in the aisle over upon catching sight of Fukumori checking a jar of tomato sauce and made a small jog towards the front where the registers were. Finally. After a simple checkout she would finally be free.

She waited in line (one of the dullest experiences Maki could attest to _ever_ experiencing, aside from flying coach), trying to keep Naoko from pulling candy off the shelves (economic genius, that was; put the candy by the register so the kids can sneak it in at the last minute and bring up Maki’s total by a whopping ¥210). Finally, she moved up and started putting her products on the conveyor belt.

When the cashier gave her the total, Maki took out her wallet and nearly dropped every single coupon stuffed inside to the floor. She gathered as much as she could in both her hands (and caught the rest with her elbows), grunting in frustration. Honestly, she probably hadn’t even grabbed a _third_ of Nico’s bizarre coupon supply. She began sorting through each of them; her brows furrowed when she noticed one that said something about a free dog wash. They don’t even _have_ a dog. Why the hell does Nico have a coupon for a dog wash?

Behind her, several customers started to get antsy. Maki gnawed on her lip and finally pulled out the grocery store coupon she remembered grabbing from the kitchen drawer and held it in her hands like it was a long-lost relic. Her eyes glanced over the cashier, then back to the coupon, and panic hit her when she realized she had no fucking clue how to use it.

She flipped it between her fingers, briefly reading the front and back to see if there were some kind of instructions. Nothing. Just more ads for more coupons and some other useless promotional deals. Taking out her debit card, she compared them. The coupon was roughly the same size, though not as thick. Maki slid her card underneath the coupon to switch hands and held her wallet (along with the rest of the coupons) to her stomach (due to the baby obstructing her chest). She slid the coupon through the credit card reader, then turned back to the cashier, pleased with herself.

Except the cashier just stared at her. And stared. Like she was an alien or something. Her concern grew, and she started second-guessing herself, though tried to keep up a polite smile. Efforts waning, she looked between the card reader, the coupon, and the cashier.

He coughed. “Um, ma’am, could you… give me the coupon?”

Maki nearly choked on air. “I--I, um.” She swallowed, tongue too thick for her mouth, suddenly aware of how absolutely public this entire scene was. She didn’t know how to use a coupon. Maki Nishikino didn’t know how to use a _fucking coupon_. And she was in a store, with several customers behind her, _watching_ her.

“Ma’am, you’re holding up the--”

“I--I’m so sorry, my wife usually does this, I--” Maki stuttered a defense, bringing her hand--and the coupon--to her forehead in disbelief. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry--”

Naoko tugged on her pants. She brought her arm down and before she could say anything, Naoko gently took the coupon from her hand and stood on her tip-toes. She could only _barely_ reach the countertop by standing as such, and her hand had to arch to get the coupon over the top, but she finally managed to slide it towards the cashier, who took it and scanned it.

“That’s how Mama ‘lways does it,” she said, smiling in pride. Maki hunched. Defeated and publicly humiliated by her own three-year-old. What a way to commit social suicide, Maki.

The cashier repeated the total and told her that _now_ she could swipe her card. Red up to her ears, Maki clumsily slid the card through and typed in her pin, then threw her wallet back inside her purse, more preoccupied with her current embarrassment, and brought her hand over her mouth. She closed her eyes, the scene that had only just occurred replaying in her mind over and over and over--

And by the time the cashier handed Maki her bags, she couldn’t even face the boy anymore and started dragging her feet away, Naoko bouncing at her heels with excitement.

She just made a _complete_ fool of herself in a grocery store. What if her co-worker saw it? What if it was recorded? What if some asshat put it up online? What if she _died_ from embarrassment? At this level, Maki thought it might actually be possible.

All she wanted to do was go home and curl up and maybe look at herself in a mirror for a while. Naoko, on the other hand, seemed content with herself. What, does she think she’s smarter than an adult because she knew how to use a coupon?

 _Just wait until you have to pay taxes, kid._ Maki followed Naoko to the car, and was about to toss the bags in the back when she noticed Naoko reach into the bag and pull something out before bounding for the back seat.

She had reached into the bag and pulled out a small box of chocolates.

 

* * *

 

When Maki realized it was already seven at night and she had forgotten to eat again, she couldn’t bother to do more than grab some sushi she had picked up at the store and eat on the couch.

The twins sat on the floor, playing with some blocks, while Naoko sat next to her mother with a set of colored markers and paper. Nico had told Maki several times to keep Naoko from drawing while on the couch, but Maki didn’t see the harm in it. If she ended up accidentally coloring the couch, they could just buy a new one. Nico didn’t like to see the simple solutions, of course.

Letting her feet rest on the coffee table, Maki blankly watched another rerun play on the T.V., too exhausted to change it to something more interesting. She had long since changed out of her clothes, preferring comfort to style in her own home (Nico apparently preferred the latter, as evidenced by Maki waking up at two in the morning to find Nico, fully dressed, makeup done and set, sitting at the kitchen table and playing her phone for some Dia event that she, for some reason, considered a “special occasion”). Maki sighed, leaning her head back to close her eyes for a moment.

It only hit her now, but Maki realized how long it had been since she had a moment of peace and quiet like this. Not just the relaxation, but having her kids awake and near her, too. Most of the time she came home to a sleeping house (or, on rare occasions, Nico wide awake and playing her phone). Today was the first day, in some months, that Maki had been able to spend time with her kids to the fullest extent of the day. Though certainly sometimes pains in the ass, Maki knew she missed the Quality Family Time. Now Nico was missing out.

Or maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she purposefully faked a trip so she could spend some time by herself. Probably not.

Still, Maki smiled. Sort of. She was trying and that was the important part. She blinked in Naoko’s direction, then watched the twins smash their blocks together as if they would magically glue together. _Kids_.

She watched the T.V., but paid little attention to the scene actually happening. Something dramatic, something sad, something suspenseful. It all started to meld together in a crock-pot of the sheer disappointment that was medical drama. Usually, she found the energy to, at the very least, laugh at the ridiculousness of horribly-skewed symptoms and unrealistic procedures, but this episode was less “under the knife” and more “romance-drama-suspense.” Yawn. Nozomi recommended an American medical drama to her once before, but she could never recall the name and didn’t feel like bringing it up during conversation.

Snack finished, she set her trash on the coffee table and figured she could throw it out tomorrow. Tomomi slammed her fist on the couch, demanding to be let up, and Maki complied. Seeing his sister go up, Tooru cried as well until Maki stood up, walked over to where he sat, and brought him to the couch as well. Lazy bum couldn’t even crawl to the couch. Maki thought she could finally relax, free of the weight of her kids on her chest and back, but of course not, Maki, two kids crawling all over you is exactly what you get for being a mother.

Naoko unscrewed a marker cap and took hold of Maki’s left arm. Maki stared, dumbfounded. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

“I saw the man, with the colors,” she said.

“Huh?” The man with the colors? The tattoos?

“I wanna give you one, Mommy.”

Maki tried to coax her to _not_ give Mommy a colorful arm, because she didn’t want one, but Naoko pouted and pouted until she got her way and Maki conceded, cringing at exactly what kind of deformed butterfly Naoko was going to draw all the way from her bicep to her wrist. Fantastic. This was going to take forever to come off.

Could be worse, she supposed. She could be cutting her hair herself and making her bangs so horribly uneven it made Nico’s old pigtails look good. Bad mental image, on second thought. Maki had been horribly skeeved out and forced Nico to cut her hair, because she was a damn adult woman and did not need to look like a fucking child.

In fact, Maki had an entire family comprised of children, didn’t she?

Maki would say she had given up, but she’d already resigned to her fate the moment they were born. She just hoped Naoko wouldn’t draw a mustache on her when she inevitably passed out.

 

* * *

 

The house dead quiet save for some fuzz, Nico tiptoed in. She didn’t plan on being home almost twenty-four hours earlier than she expected, but it was a happy surprise. If she were honest--and she usually was, in comparison to a certain redhead she knew--she really _did_ want to go home already.

She expected Maki to be asleep, and she was right, but she didn’t expect to see her on the couch, all three kids at her side, Naoko with markers that Nico would have to remind herself to later scold her for. Nico grinned, still, when she quietly approached the living room after locking the door, taking the sight in.

Maki had two arms outstretched, the twins on her right and Naoko on her left, while snoring lightly. The T.V. played low static in the background, reflecting light off the image before her. Nico waited until the T.V. provided a suitable amount of light before snapping a picture, cringing at the flash and checking to make sure she hadn’t woken up any of them. She snorted while rounding the couch at the child drawings that covered Maki’s entire left arm. Definitely going on Twitter. Then, after having her fun, she set herself to work quietly and cautiously.

First, she took Maki’s arm and unwound it from Naoko, then gently picked her daughter up. She squirmed in her arms, and when she opened her eyes, Nico hushed her and carried her to her room, tucking her into the bed and planting a kiss on her forehead. Too tired to request a bedtime story, Naoko fell asleep just as quickly as she’d woken up.

She then took the twins, one on each hip, and brought them to their cribs gently so as not to wake them, since she knew that, once woken, they _never_ went back to sleep. Thankfully, Nico had a Mother’s Touch and could handle the twins without so much as stirring them--something that had made Maki jealous time and time again for her Maternal Charm.

Now, the _last_ child was the hardest one to budge.

“Hey, babe,” Nico whispered in her ear, gently shaking her shoulder. Maki made a noise and turned her head to the other side. “I put the kids to bed. Don’t you want to go to bed too?”

Maki murmured something inaudible, eyelashes fluttering momentarily. She dismissed Nico’s words and rolled back over, laying her head to rest on the couch arm, and brought her feet up onto the couch. Nico shrugged and took a seat beside her so that Maki’s feet dug into her side, pet Maki’s hair, curled her knees into her chest, and turned on Netflix. Finally, she could sit and watch in peace and quiet--no more fans, no more cameras, no more lights--except for the T.V. lights, of course.

Nico lowered the volume a bit when Maki stirred from her place on the couch. She could’ve swore she saw her eyes open for a second, but they closed back immediately. No hiding it, she was definitely awake and cranky.

Maki, who cradled an arm around her head, opened her eyes every so often to see what Nico was watching despite her exhaustion. It was an anime. Of course it was. Despite being a grown-ass adult, Nico still found ways to completely humiliate Maki and make her question why she married her in the first place. She thought, “Because I love her,” and almost snorted out loud at how sleepy she was and how it was affecting her thought process.

Still, this anime was a familiar one at that. Something about volleyball. Among various other blurbs of complete nonsensical dialogue that her tired brain couldn’t process, she swore she heard something of value amidst it.

Oikawa. Oikawa… Tooru.

Oikawa Tooru.

Maki sat up with a jolt.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.”

“Wh-what. Maki-chan?” Startled, Nico scooted herself back on the couch. Red and sleep-deprived eyes met Nico’s.

“ _You_ ,” Maki pointed accusingly with a finger. “You.”

“M-me?” Nico laughed innocently.

“ _Nico-chan_ ," she spat her name like venom, "you named our son after an _anime character_.”

“I--I did not!” Nico gasped, offended.

“Yes, you did,” Maki said through gritted teeth, the sleep all but gone from her voice. “Oh my god you totally did. I should have known. I should have _known_. How could I be so gullible--”

“H-hang on, don’t you think you’re being irrational here, Maki-chan? _You’re_ the one who picked Tooru!”

Maki scowled at her, completely enraged. “Um, excuse me? You’re the one who _suggested_ it to me! You gave me four different names--” she held up four fingers to accentuate her point, “--and I said ‘Oh, Tooru sounds nice,’ but it was all rigged, wasn’t it? You _wanted_ to name our kid after an anime--”

“Oh my god, Maki-chan, stop,” Nico whined. “I’m too tired, can’t we save this for the morning?”

“Save this for the--” Maki’s jaw hung open, shocked beyond belief as she tried to gather her words. “Y-you--I, you…. It took me nine months to realize you named him after an anime character. You tried to name Naoko-chan _Dia_ for Christ’s sake.”

“Well, we didn’t! She’s not Dia! What else do you want from me, Maki-chan?”

“What I _want_ is to go back to the hospital and change his name!”

“You can’t do that! It’s on his birth certificate and everything!” Nico crossed her arms. “He’s our darling Tooru-kun and you'll just have to accept that!”

Maki put her head in her hands, shaking back and forth. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe I let you trick me into this. I fell for it. I just completely and totally fell for it. I should’ve known you’d try something like this after Dia--”

“And I’m supposed to be the bad guy? You didn’t even say ‘Welcome home, my lovely wife and darling Nico-chan! I missed you so, so much and couldn’t do absolutely _anything_ while you were away because I was so distraught over’--”

“You’re making me out to sound like I’m incompetent,” Maki frowned and tossed a pillow at her. Nico barely dodged in time.

“You’re being rude and mean and I just got home! The least you could do is give me a little welcome back or something!”

“Oh my god, grow up. I still can’t believe you did this.” Maki flung herself back on the couch avoiding Nico’s stare.

“Don’t be such a butt about it. Nobody even knows. And for all everyone else _does_  know, Tooru is a perfectly normal name for a perfectly normal boy.”

“Fine, whatever. _I’m_ naming the next one, though.”

Nico was about to yell something back when she processed exactly what Maki said and giggled, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. Maki scrunched her brows.

“Next one?” she repeated. Maki grew flustered.

“Um--I mean, if we _have_ a next one--Let’s just focus on the three we have right now.” Nico continued to grin, forcing Maki to look elsewhere.

Their arguing ceased when the sound of wailing came from the hallway, right on cue. The two of them looked at each other, suddenly understanding the complete mistake they had made.

“Your turn,” they both said simultaneously.

 

* * *

 

> n1kino: Remind me again why I married this boor.  
>  harash0: Because you love her completely and unconditionally?  
>  n1kino: Right.  
>  n1kino: Thanks.
> 
> n1kino is offline!


End file.
